


More Than Blood

by frankiesin



Series: Say It With Neon [15]
Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Coming Out, Gen, In This House We Find Families, Self-Acceptance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-05 07:31:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16806196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frankiesin/pseuds/frankiesin
Summary: Dallon goes home for the first time in almost fifteen years.





	More Than Blood

**Author's Note:**

> This is a personal wish fufillment for me. I want to get to a point in my life where I can do this to my parents. I'm not there yet, and I don't know if I'll ever be there, but hey, I've got fiction to live through.

**June 2, 2018; Summerlin, Nevada.**

Dallon took a deep breath. They knew where they were. Spencer and Brendon knew they were in Vegas, but they didn’t know  _ where _ in Vegas. It was June, and just as hot this year as it had been the last fourteen years. Dallon came back to Summerlin every summer, because a part of them had never gotten the chance to leave. 

They’d visited Breezy yesterday. Her grave still had her deadname, but Dallon had covered that with flowers. Breezy was so much more than the name her parents had given her. 

This part was new. This part was something Dallon ha always been afraid to do, but now they were doing it. They weren’t expecting much out of this, but Dallon wanted closure. Dallon had spent their entire life knowing that one day their parents would get rid of them, either for being gay or for some other sin that went against their beliefs. 

Dallon didn’t need directions. They drove through Summerlin for a while, looking for any echoes of their childhood. They ended up outside of Hedary’s, which was still open. It smelled like falafel. Dallon made a mental note to come back after they’d talked to their parents. They hadn’t had falafel in forever, which was a tragedy within itself.

Dallon pulled back out of the parking lot. 

They didn’t cry. They’d made their peace with as much as they could, and even though they still missed Breezy, there was nothing they could do. She was gone. She hadn’t made it, and Dallon had, and they had to keep going even though Breezy couldn’t be there with them. 

Dallon turned the music up as they turned down the road that would lead them back to their parents’ house. They had no idea if their parents still lived there. Dallon didn’t know if it would be better or worse fi their parents had moved at some point in the last fifteen years. 

Dallon’s siblings didn’t talk to them, so Dallon didn’t have any connection to their own family. They’d found all three of their siblings on Facebook, but Dallon hadn’t friended any of them. They didn’t think that their siblings would want to friend them back. 

The house hadn’t changed. Dallon could see the window into their former bedroom, as well as the living room window. The garage door was closed, just as it always had been, and there was a cross hanging from the front door. Dallon still wanted to stay in the car, because they knew that they’d be judged as soon as they stepped through the front door of that house. 

Dallon stepped out of the car. It was a rental, dark grey, and nothing like the Brobecks van had been. 

They took a deep breath and locked the car behind themself. 

They’d purposely dressed themself in a more masculine way, wearing jeans and an older FBR tee that they’d found in Spencer’s section of the closet. They felt like they were twenty years old again, but also like they were thirty-six and that if they were right and their parents wanted nothing to do with them, they’d be fine. Dallon had a family back in Los Angeles. It had taken them a while to find it, but Dallon wasn’t alone. They weren’t scared of being abandoned anymore. 

They were only scared of facing this reality. Brendon’s mom had come around, and she supported her son. Rochelle and her dad had had a chance to talk about things before he died. Jon’s parents and Spencer’s parents had been supportive from the beginning. Dallon didn’t have that. Dallon knew they were never going to have that, and that their parents were never going to love them for who they were.

And yet, they were in Summerlin, standing outside of their parents door. Hoping, for no good reason, that maybe they were wrong.

Dallon knocked. 

They heard their father’s voice, and their heart pounded in their chest. It was one thing to decide to confront their parents after years of not talking. It was another thing to come face to face with them, knowing exactly what they’d think of Dallon. Dallon had grown up here, and they knew exactly what would be waiting for them on the other side of that door. 

They could still remember what their mother said to them on the day they left for Chicago. On some levels, it still hurt. Dallon had never wanted to disappoint their parents. They were gay, and non-binary, and if they’d been allowed to choose they’d still choose to be those things. They’d also choose to have a way for their parents to love them, so that Dallon wouldn’t have to pick between being themself and being their parents’ son. 

Not child. Son. Dallon knew that their parents would always see them as a man no matter what they did or didn’t do to themself. 

The door clicked and opened, and Dallon was facing their father again. He had aged significantly, with new folds and wrinkles on his face. His hair was now almost entirely grey, with a few patches of dusty brown hair scattered about. He recognised Dallon immediately, and his expression shifted quickly from shocked to angry. “What are you doing here?”

“I…” Dallon said. “I don’t know.”

“You should leave,” their father said. He moved to close the door in Dallon’s face, but Dallon stopped him. 

“Is mom home?” Dallon asked. Their heart was pounding again. They didn’t want to see her, or their father, but they were doing it anyway. Dallon was hoping for some kind of closure and understanding, but they longer they were here, the more they knew they’d never get it. 

Dallon’s mother appeared. She’d coloured her hair, making it strawberry blonde. She didn’t try to hide her anger either. “I’m so disappointed in you, Dallon. I thought I’d raised you better than this.”

Dallon didn’t breathe for a moment. They took their parents and their old house in for what would surely be the last time. Nothing had changed. Dallon had known that they would lose their parents when they were sixteen and had first realised they were gay. They’d confirmed that again when they got expelled from BYU for being involved with a man, and then again when they packed everything up in the Brobecks van in 2004. 

Fourteen years had passed. Nothing was different. Dallon had come out, fallen in love, and talked endlessly about acceptance and LGBT rights. Dallon was happy, successful, and still gay. And their parents still couldn’t see that their was nothing wrong with them.

Dallon let out the breath they’d been holding. They knew why they were here now. They knew why they’d waited so long to come back. “I’m disappointed in you guys too. I’m not the child you wanted, but I’m not sorry for who I am.”

They raised their head up. No one was seeing this aside from Dallon and their parents, but that didn’t matter. Dallon was doing this for themself. 

“I hope one day you two realise what it means to have given up on your child, but if you don’t, that’s alright,” Dallon said. They smiled, and it didn’t hurt. “I have a family now, and people who love me unconditionally. I’m just sorry that family couldn’t include you.”

Dallon turned on their heel and walked back to their rental car. They didn’t look back. They’d never looked back, not since leaving for Chicago. They were an adult, as were their parents, and so they could all three make their decisions and live with them. Dallon’s parents had decided they’d rather have no fourth child than have a gay fourth child. And Dallon… Dallon had decided that they would let their parents go. Not every story ended with a redemption arc. Sometimes people had to make their own happy endings, miles and miles away from where the story began. 

Dallon was writing their own damn story. They had people who loved them. They didn’t need to go and beg for the acceptance of people who would never give it. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed!


End file.
